Mother
by Miss Femm
Summary: Mildly AU, ROTJ. As he wonders whether or not his father can be redeemed from the dark path he has taken, Luke Skywalker dreams of the beautiful but sad Padme Amidala, the mother he has never known.


**_Forward: This short piece will be using the idea that Padme did not "lose the will to live" after giving birth. I always figured from Leia's vague memories of her mother that she lived on for a few years in hiding on Alderaan before dying somehow. (No, I do not subscribe to the idea that being sensitive to the Force helped her remember her mother even though she was two minutes old. That's a weak attempt to patch up a plot hole.) This will take place during the bridge between the second and third acts of Return of the Jedi._**

**_Anyways, this will be quite sappy in some respects, so be warned. I write more introspective pieces and poetry than stuff like this. I'm trying to refine my dialogue and descriptions, predominantly the elimination of passive voice. Anyways, I shall stop yapping on; hope you enjoy this in some respects._**

**/ r/**

Luke Skywalker closed his eyes as soon as he had opened them, blinking several times in order to adjust to the white light above his head.

Once his vision accustomed itself, he quickly realized his left cheek was smudged against a cold and smooth something. A tiled floor.

Using his hands to lift himself to his feet, the young man observed his surroundings. A large hallway, looking as though it were part of some grand manor or castle. Great windows of stained glass lined the walls, tinting the floor various shades of blue and pale yellow.

And then, before he had the time to wonder where he was or how he had come to be there, Luke realized he was not alone.

A woman in white silk sitting by a window at the end of the corridor, her chestnut hair plaited with silver cords running down her back, shining in the soft golden light. She had an air of unearthliness about her - and yet, her dark eyes were full of vitality as they gazed miles beyond the colored glass. Luke half-expected her to glide toward him like a phantom.

She turned her head toward him; her expression was kindly, warm, as though the young Jedi were no stranger to her at all. It made him think of his Aunt Beru and those long-ago summers on Tatooine. He had been a mischievous kid, but he could not recall his aunt ever regarding him or his dreams with anything besides motherly tenderness.

All of a sudden, he realized something. All his life, he had wondered about his lost father, begged his uncle in vain for scraps of information, fleeting glimpses of who his father had been. But rarely did he ever ask of his mother, the elusive Padme Skywalker. Like his father, the portrait his aunt and uncle painted of her was vague.

_"__A sweet girl, hard-working… Died shortly after your father passed in that spice freighter accident…"_

_"… __Your mother was a lovely lady, Luke, very pretty too. I'm sorry to say I barely got to know her before she took ill and passed on, my boy…"_

He had never been dissatisfied with his lack of a mother; Aunt Beru possessed all the affection and concern a child could ever need. His sole father figure Uncle Owen had been more distant. In hindsight, Luke never doubted that the curmudgeon had loved him dearly and there were brief moments where his uncle would show it outright, but the old farmer could be stifling and dismissive, too afraid to let his nephew grow up. It had made him yearn for a father figure that had never existed.

But now, looking at this woman in the eyes, it made him feel almost guilty that he had never craved to know more about his other parent.

And then in an instant, he knew why her face seemed so familiar. He had seen traces of it in his own reflection—

"Mother…"

The woman nodded, but remained silent.

"But is it really you…," he stammered, inching forward as though afraid the vision would dissolve in an instant. "Or is this just a dream? I thought you were-"

"Dead," she finished. Those kind eyes took on a hint of wistful sadness. "Yes, I'm afraid so. Padme Amidala has been dead for the last sixteen years …"

The woman rose from her seat, the long silk train sliding behind her as she made her way across the room, stopping only a few feet away from Luke. The silence stood tense. She looked as though she were drinking in every detail of him. Eyes turned upward, she covered her slowly spreading grin with her hands.

"I'm so sorry for staring like this, but—you see, I haven't been this close to you since you were an infant. You were so small, but now, you're almost a foot taller than I am! And so handsome too, just like your—well…"

Luke felt a plethora of emotions rush over him; he could see the same sentiments reflected in her eyes, shining with tears. Finally, she came forward and wrapped her arms around him, a gesture he returned whole-heartedly, placing his head upon her shoulder as a child would.

"Just so you know," she said, her voice trembling. "I never wanted to leave you… If the situation had not been so dangerous, I would have kept you with me and your sister on Alderaan. There was never a day when I did not think of you or wonder if you were safe and happy."

"No need to worry on that," he said. "Owen and Beru were kind to me."

"I am glad to hear it," she replied, stroking his sand-colored hair. "Before he took you away, Obi-wan said it was for the best. I gave birth in secret; you were brought to Tatooine when you were only a few days old." She paused for a moment. "It would have been terrible if your father had discovered me alive, or worse, that he had two children out there."

"My father…"

The words were meditative on his tongue as he released his mother from the embrace, though he kept his hands on her shoulders. That big question had been burning away in his mind for months, formed not long after he had discovered the terrible truth. Yoda and Obi-wan's unanimous agreement on his father's possibilities for redemption had caused more than a little discouragement, though Luke remained hopeful, not least because he still felt that his old master had not been truthful to him. A full-fledged Jedi should be able to make his own opinions.

Or in a worst case scenario, his own mistakes…

"Obi-wan once said my father was a good friend to him back in the days of the Clone Wars, but he believes there is no going back from the dark side. But if he was once a good man, then how is it impossible that some glimmer of light does not still exist somewhere within him?"

Padme remained silent for a moment, her eyes far away in thought.

"Your father was a good man for the many years I loved him in life," she said. "But he was also a troubled man; he underwent great pain. Of course, he was unafraid of death himself, but incapable of bearing the thought of loss; he did whatever he could to possess control over all those fears. That destroyed him in the end."

"So you believe there's no hope that he could change?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Anakin Skywalker has been twisted from his former self, but I have never believed it impossible that he could change. Life is made of change; my husband changed once. It would not be impossible for him to do so again."

She chuckled softly.

"What?" asked Luke.

"It's funny. We tried our best to keep him from finding out about the both of you, but in the end, knowing about you may have been… well, that may play a vital role in drawing him back to the light…"

Suddenly, Luke felt the substance beneath him lightly tremble. The edges of his vision became fuzzy as all the color rushed from his surroundings.

"What's happening?" he exclaimed.

"What all dreamers must do," she said, her voice suddenly far away. "Awake."

Panic entered his voice. "Will I ever see you again, mother?"

She smiled warmly. He could barely make out the details of the rest of her body, but he could feel the warmth of her hand upon his cheek.

"Perhaps. There is no certainty in any matter—but we can always hope. Never lose that."

There was no room. Nothing but his mother's waning presence. Her final words were like an echo.

"Now wake up, Luke, and take action."

And just like that, there was that familiar sense of rushing upward through darkness and back into the much colder world of consciousness.

Luke opened his eyes, but even this renewed sense of optimism could not completely banish his grogginess and need to adjust to the lights.

_**A/N: Meh ending, but hopefully the rest was decent. If you must review at all, then do so constructively.**_


End file.
